Blinded by the Sun
by Ebony Bowie
Summary: A story filled with emotion without being wishy washy and of course the gorgeous boys of D-tent. No "Mary Sue's"... mostly ; Calling all Zigzag fans. I really would LOVE feedback, as I am an aspiring writer. If you review me, I shall review you.
1. Chapter 1

**This is just the first chapter. Of course it's not addictive right away, but bear with me, I promise you're in for an adventure, I'm just not fantastic at, er... cliff-hangers :$ **

**I don't own holes. I wish I did, but *voice trails off* I hope you like it as much as I like reviews. please review it, I've reviewed every fanfic I've read so far because I know how much effort goes into these non-profit things. **

Annalise St Bride grabbed her suitcase and slid into the awaiting taxi-cab, relieved to be out of the pelting rain. "It was raining cats and dogs" her mother would have said.

"Where to, young missy?" drawled the driver, looking her up and down. Shifting uncomfortably in her seat and tugging her coat around herself, she unfolded the piece of soaking wet paper, squinting to read it. The rain had caused the ink to run. Although she liked to keep her appearance professional, and rain was always an inconvenience in that department, she loved everything about it. The cold of the water as it landed on her face, the soothing sound, the lush green of everything after a shower. And most particularly, she loved how it fell from the heavens, how a single drop could fall unnoticed yet a great number could cause a storm. Annalise cleared her voice. "Texas. Camp Greenlake", she said, briskly, silently bidding farewell to the rain.

***

"Is this some sort of sick joke?" Warden exclaimed stepping into the room, more than a hint of threat in her tone. Mr. Sir jumped from his position on the couch, ready with an excuse to defend himself. "It was the doin' of the d-te-"

"Excuse me?" The Warden brusquely cut him off, leering dangerously close to Mr. Sir, her eyes wide, wild.

Doctor Pendanski spoke, climbing out from under a chair. "This morning the boys of D Tent, Alan, I think, in the mess hall… It was at breakfast." He grinned as though his report had been a success. Mr. Sir silently chuckled his "I'm glad it's you and not me" crossed with the "you're doomed" laugh, as he backed away until he blended in to the background, leaving Dr Pendanski to deal with the Warden's wrath.

There was a pause. Warden kicked him angrily in the shin and he let out a loud wail. Without missing a beat, Warden turned and stormed back out of the room, headed for D tent. There was no way she would allow those boys to get away with this insolent stunt.

***

At the time it had seemed funny enough. It was the crack of dawn and everybody was getting ready for some serious digging, like it was their first priority in life, whether they wanted it to be or not. Still, X-ray tried his best to enjoy it.

"Hey little man" said X, slapping Zero on the back; half friendly, half belittlingly. Zero said nothing and walked on. X-Ray matched his pace, dramatically, not oblivious to his audience of fellow D-Tent-ers. "Howdya feel about doin' me a little favour? You wanna dig my hole for me, boy?" He held out his shovel for the younger boy, but let it fall to the ground, knowing he wouldn't take it. X-Ray lay down on the ground, closing his eyes, savouring the relazxing moment. It was cut short. He jumped a mile, as did the others, and all eyes turned to where the clatter had come from. Zigzag stood grinning from ear to ear, his eyes as wide as saucers, at his own little joke.

All eyes went from Zigzag to the scene of the noise. Zigzag's shovel lay on top the roof of the mess hall. "Zig, what'd you do that for, are you crazy, man?" cried Armpit in a hushed tone. "If you've got no shovel how're you gonna dig your hole?"

Zigzag obviously hadn't considered this. OR HAD HE? :O

**As I said, you're in for an adventure, believe me. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Blinded by the Sun chapter 2**

**HERE YE HERE YE, I still don't own Holes.**

_Three years earlier…_

Mr Cormier planned his entire teaching year ahead of time, right down to the day, every year without fail. He had become so good at this that he had even learned to seamlessly budget time for mistakes.

The other teachers smiled and said he was very good at his job. He was obsessively organised.

Until his first year philosophy class entered the room, bright and early Monday morning, first class of the year, Mr Cormier had had no problems with his system. Every time he had a new class he sat them down, and before he even introduced himself he would ask them the same question he had asked each previous class.

"If you have a text of any sort, that is constructed to imitate or represent human life as we know it," He paused, looking from student to student creating a very unrealistic dramatic effect, "What is the most dangerous stage of advancement it can take form in and why?" he asked.

He wasn't expecting the correct use of logic, resulting in a flawless answer but he didn't mind; he knew it was a very difficult, if not a trick, question. With each new class he took in a bunch of (mostly) school-leavers, fresh with ideas and experiences and by the end of the course those same people had been transformed into stable, logical individuals.

Of course he had planned in advance that next lesson he would reveal the answer and introduce them to the wonderful world of philosophy.

He wasn't prepared, however, for the voice of the girl with the long red hair and seated in the front row.

"The most dangerous stage wouldn't be at low or moderate stages of advancement…" She said slowly, contradicting the thoughts of every other student. "It would be as close to humanity as possible without being interchangeable right?

"And why is that?" The professor asked, leaning down to pick up the chalk that had just dropped from his hand.

"It's dangerous," She began, sounding far more confident than she felt, "because people begin to subconsciously _break down_ the metaphorical wall between the two. This usually results in the inability to distinct between the properties of the actual and the imitation. People may find themselves picking up unnatural habits, perhaps ones that might cause… a recession in development?

There was a silence. The class was rather impressed; needless to say, Mr Cormier was in an advanced state of shock. He composed himself, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. He eyed his student. 'You're very much correct, Annabella."

"Annalise." She corrected him, nodding politely.

She didn't look like the type of person who would know everything about everything. In fact, she looked like she cared more about how the planets were aligned, the phase of the moon or what a topaz was. Her long red hair contrasted immensely with her whimsical purple singlet dress that hung about her ankles.

Mr Cormier replaced his glasses and continued teaching.

***

Lou Stood at the window, her mouth a thin line. To any passer-by-er it might look as though the Warden of Camp Green Lake, juvenile detention centre for boys, was gazing out the window at something she considered moderately unpleasant.

The passer-by-e (lets call him Bob for convenience sake) would initially think whatever was out the window was causing Mrs Wannabe Cowgirl her problems, or at least the ones she was currently pondering. If Bob walked up to take a look out the window he would see many clusters of boys digging holes.

Bob would only be half right.

Warden Lou was indeed considering something, and her devious little mind was conjuring up a plan. A slow smile spread across her face.

***

In the counsel room, after a long day of digging in the hot sun, a group of seven or so boys were situated in various positions around the room.

A small, unfortunate-looking man wearing a lawn hat stood at the front of the room, speaking to the group of D-tenters, who looked too bored to be bothered to look bored.

"Now you people… you _boys _need to pull your socks up before someone pulls them up for you." Dr Pendanski said, a badly disguised "proud" look on his face, most likely as a result of his oh-so-threatening threat. He hurried on, deciding that he could use some more feet/socks/shoes related words of advice. "You can't put your shoes on until you have your socks on first!"

He wished the warden were here to see his mentoring victory.

Squid was chewing a matchstick and leaning against the far wall. "Whose shoe is where?" He asked, nonchalantly.

Zigzag, who was playing with his shoelace, looked up when he said this. "Keith Berringer's shoe is on the roof of the math block" he said, his eyes animated.

Dr Pendanski tried to win back their attention with a sentence or two, failing as the conversation increased. He sank back into his chair, rubbing his temples.

"….Ya'll know nobody gets away with…" somebody said. Instantly the room was full of rowdy chatter and movement.

"Pendanski!" Came the voice of Mr. Sir.

Dr. Pendanski ducked to avoid a shoe that came flying at his face.

"Tell your boys to shut the f-"

Doctor Pendanski had had enough. He could take it no longer. In the instant that it took him to climb up onto the chair and tower over everyone in the room, Mr Sir had collected his boot from across the room and strolled out, avoiding the blast that would become Dr Pendanski's breakdown.

"QUIETEN DOWN YOU LOT OF PIG-DOG FALLANGEE BLEEDIN' SQUALLORS. GOLLY LOSHA FITTINS!!"

By the end of his little speech his face was bright red and every eye in the room was turned his way. He took a deep breath and let it out with a "woosh" sort of sound.

"Boys," He said calmly, "Your warden has decided that it would be in your best interest to bring another counsellor into the camp. Her name is Miss St Bride and you're gonna treat her better than your own mother."

Squid muttered something about his mother and deserving respect.

***


	3. Chapter 3

**I, Ebony Bowie, do not own Holes, nor do I own Simone Simons, whom you can google to get a basic idea of what our Annalise St Bride looks like (: (Except imagine her with shoulder-length hair)**

**I also don't own Chess. **

Miss St Bride stepped out of the air-conditioned taxi and onto the dry steaming hot ground. The cab ride had been incredibly relaxing, despite the fact that it had taken many hours to arrive at Camp Greenlake. Annalise watched the cab, air-conditioned in all it's glory, and despite a driver that had tried to come on to her, she wished she was back there now, she already missed her cat, her luxurious apartment, and the cool weather.

She blinked, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the harsh sunlight.

_It looks like it hasn't rained here in decades_ thought Annalise as she gazed around at the dry-wasteland. The sun looked much bigger than it did in New York.

In the distance she could see a couple of trees nearby a cabin. And many of the largest tents she'd ever seen, surrounding it, and further in the distance.

"Miss St Bride?" A too-friendly texan female voice called, snapping Annalise from her observation. She turned around to see a thirty-something aged woman, who looked uncannily like Sigourney Weaver, in a cowboy hat and jeans. She looked like the token cowgirl from a movie she'd once seen.

The two women smiled brightly at each other. "It's a pleasure to meet you" said the warden. "Oh, sorry. I'm Lou, the warden of Camp Greenlake."

Lou enjoyed intimidating people in a way psychologists would find worrying. She lived by many rules but one of them was if you can't beat them, join them.

Upon meeting somebody, she would figure out if she could gain status above them, be able to get them around her little finger, metaphorically. Sometimes, there were people who she couldn't dominate, and Lou realised it was best to be on their good side. After many years of being interventionist, most conquests were easy, hell, she was top dog at the camp.

She studied the woman that stood in front of her. She looked like she'd just stepped out of the prissiest business firm in her rose pink and white dress suit and French twist hairstyle. Physically, Lou towered over her. One point to Lou. But it was clear to see from the incredible confidence that exuded from Annalise, that it wasn't wise to pick a fight you couldn't win.

"Let's get you a nice cold drink, and Dr Pendanski can have you settled in." Lou said sweetly.

***

Conversation among the D-tenters about Dr Pendanski's breakdown hadn't really died down, even after two days worth of digging holes.

Of course, that was nothing compared to the animated discussions about the new counsellor that would be coming to camp.

Magnet was laying across the cot on his stomach with his head resting on his hands. "I don't wanna talk to some old lady about my career. It's not like it's not already bad enough with mom." He snapped.

"Chill, Mag." X-Ray instructed "This could be funny" He was lying on his back with his feet crossed, resting up on the bed head. X-Ray sounded a lot more confident than he felt.

Zigzag wasn't paying attention. His awareness was completely focussed on the game of chess. "CHESS MAKE!" He yelled suddenly as he moved the king several spaces across the board in one movement and knocked off a pawn of the same colour.

"I win." He stated. He looked over to the other boys. His eyes narrowed as he tuned in to the conversation. "I don't trust her as far as I can throw her." He stated firmly his enormous eyes darting around the room.

***

Annalise sat at the vanity wearing a black silk dressing robe and combed her shoulder-length red hair, still damp from the shower. She smiled as she realised her friends were kind of right when they told her she looked like Simone Simons.

Sigh. She missed them already. Not that she had many friends these days. Annalise liked to focus on her career. Friends would come and go but a social life was one of the things she virtually closed the door to in order to climb the ladder at work. She thought about her parents, and hoped they were taking good care of Spook as she unpacked. Her suitcase was mostly full of vintage dress suits and lace, the contents worth thousands.

Looking around the room, she wasn't really satisfied, though it would have to do. It was cramped, but could pass as _cosy, _dark, but could pass as _private_.

She brightened. Privacy was good. She was a very private person, and although she was used to working in an air-conditioned office, she could very well get used to this. She only had to hold mentoring meetings for half an hour each day, between 7.30 and 8pm, and the rest of the time was virtually free, unless a child wanted some advice.

There was knock at the door.

She pulled her robe around her tighter and opened the door, where stood a small man, about her own height.

A grin stretched across his face and he extended his hand. "Hello there!" he called pleasantly, "I'm Dr Pendanski, the official D Tent counsellor, you'll be working with the boys for additional help-"

She cut him off, smiling with poise. "I'm Annalise St Bride," She shook his hand. "It's nice to meet you Dr Pendanski,"

"You may call me Donald."

She nodded curtly. "Boys? There are no girls at this camp?"

Dr Pendanski looked a little shocked. "No. No this is a juvenile delinquent camp for boys." He laughed nervously. "Boys that have gone bad!"

Annalise nodded again. It wasn't a problem, she hadn't really heard all the details about this job as it was very sudden.

She brushed hair out of her eyes.

Dr Pendanski stood there gazing at her. Annalise folded her arms and looked at him squarely. He snapped out of it, blushing. "Oh, I almost forgot" He said handing her a folder that was overflowing with papers. "It's a bit of an overview of your job, rights, responsibilities and a copy of the boys' files."

It was late afternoon and Annalise was completely exhausted despite the fact that her day had been fairly easy. She went to sleep only to be woken up less than an hour later by a loud "bell" sound. Then her sense of smell kicked in.

As Annalise headed along a dirt path toward the mess hall she wondered whereabouts she was supposed to sit. Was there a table especially for the counsellors? Did they sit among the delinquents and try to "guide" them in a casual "during mealtime" sort of way?

She payed no attention to the wide eyed criminals who stared, some of them even dropped their shovels in shock. This was the last thing she needed; _That _sort of attention from troublesome teenage boys.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry to all my wonderful readers who have been waiting so long for this chapter. I have been so utterly busy it's not funny. I wrote an article about London and I'm hoping it will get published... Wish me luck!**

_**Usual Disclaimer: I don't own Holes, Philosophy or Petaluma Tiers**_

Annalise St Bride's first consultation with the boys of D-Tent had gone surprisingly well. Of course there had been the occasional flirtatious comment. Or not so occasional in the case of one boy in particular; one who had a toned, muscular physique, one who noticeably "strutted" rather than simply walked. One who'd boldly touched Annalise's shoulder as he'd introduced himself as X-Ray.

She made a quick mental note not refer to him by this, ever.

She wasn't really sure where to begin, but she knew better than to allow anyone to think she didn't know what she was doing.

_Confusion is a person's weakest state. _Her mother had told her. _They will recognise your unsureness and take the opportunity to take advantage. _

If her mother had taught her one thing, it was to appear confident even if she wasn't and in turn stay one step ahead of everybody else.

She began the conference by asking each of the boys how they had ended up in Camp Greenlake.

Stanley Yelnats had made a relatively big show about his own situation, how he had landed himself in Camp Greenlake. "It was all just a big…." He searched for the right word, running his fingers through his hair which sent a puff of dirt into the air.

"A big misunderstanding, Miss St Bride" he concluded, smiling his sweetest smile.

Annalise smiled back. "A big mistake, maybe? Or perhaps misdemeanour would be more fitting, don't you think?"

Stanley's smile quickly faded and sort of turned into a semi-glower. The room more or less filled with laughter and Annalise almost felt bad.

She smoothed her embroidered silk blouse and sighed. "This is indecent." She said, her voice proper, "It's simply not right that you're laughing at Stanley's expense."

She paused for a moment debating whether or not to go on. "You know, each one of you is in here as a result of your own actions. No matter how different you think you are from everybody else in the room, you still have that one thing in common. Your time here will be more enjoyable if you get along with each other. Relationships are sort of like…. Fires burning down a hill. Once you get them started it's hard to put them out."

The room hushed. She looked directly at X-Ray who flashed her a smile and winked. "Rex. I'm utterly clueless as to why you're in here." She lied. Their files held just about every detail of each of these scheming individuals but Annalise just enjoyed hearing it in their own words. There was some extreme sugar-coating going on, that was for certain.

Annalise had briefly perused the files the night before, whilst enjoying a cold glass of Petaluma Tiers, before falling asleep sometime in the early hours of the morning.

"Perhaps you have an entertaining tale about flying shoes and grandparents and celebrities, also?"

X-Ray gave a short laugh. "It's X-Ray," Then he narrowed his eyes. "Who toldcha anythin' about a… Rex?"

"X-Ray is pig-Latin for Rex, is it not?" She said, and couldn't fight the urge to throw in (in her most patronising tone available) "Children worldwide play with the likes of made up languages. It is perfectly healthy."

Soon the room laughed a bit at X, but fellow D-Tent-ers were met with glares from X-Ray which led to an awkward silence.

***

Annalise had never worked in a situation like this before. She had never intended on even working in the industry at all, in fact. Her college major was philosophy and (though her parents warned her there would be no "respectable" employment in that category) she had felt quite interested in theories surrounding the meaning of life.

There was a time in her life that a job that she enjoyed was more important than any amount of money, when she had believed that wealth was evaluated on a basis of enlightenment rather than financial security.

When people heard that Annalise's father was a doctor they immediately assumed he had a heart of gold and wanted nothing more than to use his expertise to help those in need. But so long as there was a hefty pay-check he was happy. Every two weeks Annalise's mother had her hair and nails done at the most prestigious parlour in town. People often commented on her mother's beauty and though as a child, Annalise had agreed, she had never understood how the people could see what she really looked like under the glitz and glamour.

As a young teenager, Annalise had sat under the stars and lit a candle for the moon. She promised herself that she wouldn't grow up to become lost in the rat race like her mother and father.

***

The rest of the lesson continued as the first half. Annalise decided that she would need more than just a glass of sparkling when her session was over. A hot Jacuzzi with scented oil and a massage might be nice. She shuddered, realising that she might have to do without.

When the session finally _was _over, Annalise dismissed the boys. She turned around to gather files on her desk, as the boys shuffled out of the room. _Where were the lesson planners? _She was wondering when a deep boyish voice interrupted her thoughts.

_Paranoid_. She recognised Zigzag's insane hairstyle and wide, untrusting eyes.

Annalise recalled his story about setting fire to the school playground and noticed the lack of emotion in his voice, a lack of remorse. She felt a shiver and took an unconscious step backwards. Though she would never admit it, Zigzag frightened her. He had the mentality to become a cold-blooded killer.

"Fire burns faster up a hill than down" Zigzag said in his Texan-boy accent.

"I didn't think you were paying attention, Ricky" She said, her voice tired, but she was pleasantly surprised. Zigzag's eyes bore into Annalise's back. "I wasn't" He turned on his heel. Annalise swung around in time to see him sweep out of the room.

**What is going to happen next time? **


End file.
